Clueless

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No furry things were harmed in the production of this tale. All people involved are over 18 years old and have their full faculties. I claim full copyright privilege despite letting it loose in the wild of the internets. This and other tales I intend are a highly fictionised account of how I came to where I am now from where I was once. Names and faces have been changed to protect the truth from hurting people who really need a good smack up the head with an erect cock.

a) CLUELESS. (It had to start somewhere.)

“I’m just ducking over to Deb’s for a while, Darl. She needs a hand with the kid’s costumes, I’ll be back in an hour or two. Are you right to get dinner on?”

“Sure.” I’m not thrilled about it but keep the tone out of my voice. I’ve just walked in the door after twelve-hour shift and I’m exhausted. I had been looking forward to taking a six pack out to the pool to sit and look over the lawn that I should have spent this afternoon mowing. Maybe Laura or Maddie can whip something up when they get home.

Deb is Mary’s friend from work. She’s a hot little ginger with a smoking rig. She’s married to Carl who is a few years younger. They have three kids in primary school. Our two, Laura and Madison are twenty-one and eighteen respectively. I guess you’d call Deb and Carl ‘family friends’. We spend a lot of time together as families. My two big girls don’t relish the Dobson family’s company, but they begrudgingly do their best not to show it. They’re independent young women and probably a bit past ‘family time’.

Carl Dobson is a copper. He’s a lot of fun to be around. We golf occasionally and I love listening to his ‘war stories’ as he calls them when our families get together. I can see what Deb likes about him. He’s six foot tall, built like a brick shithouse and ruggedly good looking. He’s a real blokey sort of bloke. Mary gets along with him too. She’s always having play wrestles, making flirty comments with him. Just being playful in front of Deb. It’s all harmless.

We’re not, ‘in each other’s back pockets’ but it’s not uncommon for Carl to drop around and borrow tools while I’m out. There have been times when Deb’s turned up unannounced to drop something off or some such thing. So, Mary ducking out help with costume making, the day before Halloween is not something out of the ordinary.

Fuck dinner for now though. I’m going to have a beer and scratch my nuts for a little while before the girls get home. Then I’ll think about dinner.

“Mum!” Jolts me back to the moment as I sip beer and look at my bike. I never quite made it poolside. “Marrrrrmm!”

Maddy is a bit of a yeller. Laura is quiet and deliberate, but Maddy is a whirlwind.

“Mum’s out, Maddy!” I yell from the garage.

A string of mumbled ‘fucks’ and other grumbles moves through the house in a stompy storm of teenage daughter. It stops abruptly in the door of the garage with its hand on one hip and a face that could turn a person to stone.

“Where the fuck is she Daddy? She was supposed to pick me up from the doctors an hour ago.”

“Deb’s place. Costumes or something.” I tell my baby girl. “Are you okay? What’s… Doctors…”

“Hmmmph. Girl stuff. Gyno. You don’t want to know.”

“Oh. Right. Probs not. So… You right? Did you need a lift somewhere or something?”

“Home. Dah… What’s she doing over there this time? Fuck! Just forget me. I’m cranky. Going for a swim. You look like shit, old man.”

“Overtime.”

“Again?”

“Always. We need the money at the moment.”

“We wouldn’t if the mega-beast didn’t spend it all. Seriously Dad, you’re clueless. Do you even know what she spends on gym and spa and bla bla bla. Not that any of it helps.”

“Maddy, that’s enough hon. Mum works hard and tries to look her best.”

“Pffft… Clueless.” She rolled her eyes at me and stormed off back inside. Those teenage hormones… I remember being a bit of a hothead myself. Should probably think about getting something out for dinner. On my way inside I smile at my big healthy almost grown up Maddy lying on the pool steps in her underwear.

She’s a good-looking kid. Reminds me a little of her mother’s sister when she was that age. Mary’s sister Therese is a couple of years younger than Mary and has the same blonde hair as Maddy. More than once I’d been in trouble for perving on Therese back when Mary and I were young.

Oh… Underwear… By some kind of family law decree, when it’s just us at home, undies are fine for pool use. No different to a bikini or speedos if you apply a reality check to it. “I hope a gyno visit included some kind of discussion about contraception.” I think to myself as I proudly check my gorgeous daughter out.

Her plain beige bra is opaque when wet and so too are her matching knickers. Good lord, the boys will be… I need to buy another gun. Shaking my head to clear it I chuckle to myself and wander through the sliding door to the kitchen.

To find Laura quietly milling around the kitchen already with rice measured into a container and some kaçak iddaa kind of meat being cut into strips along with onion and…

“Hi Daddy. Mum texted. Said she was going to be late. Thought I’d get dinner started.”

Her smile is one of her best features. She’s dark haired like her mum and taller than Maddy, but still the spitting image of her mum in her twenties.

“Thanks kiddo.”

“Don’t mention it. You work too hard. Can’t have my spunky Dad doing all the work around here, can I.” She hugs me around the waist and does that little girl kissy face, so I lean down and peck her quickly on the lips.

“Love ya.”

“You too. Now go shower and whatever. You smell like petrol and… something funky.”

My phone bings as I strip and turn the shower on.

[Running late. Put dinner in the oven pls. XX]

“Fuck.” I rub my balls and dick as I wait for the hot water. I was hoping to get rid of a bit of dirty water this evening. Friday night is usually our unofficial ‘date’ night. Not that we do anything or go anywhere, but sex is usually on the cards on Friday night. It’s the only night our shifts coincide without fail.

It’s something of a rebellious thing that the girls and I do when their mum is not dining with us. Mary insists on dinner at the table so we can ‘have some proper family time’. When she’s not home we slob around the lounge and watch silly things that we would never be allowed to watch if Mary was home.

Tonight, I sit on the floor. For whatever reason, I’m more comfortable on the carpet leaning back against the couch. I’m wearing my boxers and a singlet; standard nightwear for me. The girls are sitting behind me on the two-seater smelling like a mix of soap and powder and the butter chicken that Laura whipped up.

In the reflection of the window to the backyard that the television sits in front of, I have very unfatherly thoughts as I inspect their pretty young forms. I’d never act on anything like that, but I do appreciate honestly how attractive the girls are. I’m proud of the women they’re growing into and my genetic contributions but… well, they aren’t hard to look at.

They sit like kids. Like they are totally comfortable and don’t have to think about how they sit, or where they are. As a result, the t-shirts (both mine that they’ve stolen) ride up their open legs that they balance plates on and in the reflection, I can see both their braless breasts hugged gently by the cotton shirts and that Laura has chosen a pair of black cotton undies and Maddy has forgotten altogether.

This might be another reason that I like to sit on the floor between their long shower smelling legs, but I’ll never admit to it. It’s harmless pervy stuff. Maddy seems to have my attention this evening rather than Laura. I’m trying to work out if she’s completely shaved… Every time I feel her move behind me on the couch, I glance sideways to the reflection to see what I can see.

Oh god, Mary is getting a fucking workout this evening when she finally gets home.

“Bing!”

[Leaving now. CU soon. Tell Laura to wash up and make sure Madison takes her pill. The bar will take a while yet.]

Fucking really? Laura just cooked the first home-cooked meal I’ve had in days and now she has to wash up? I am to speak with my teenage daughter about her contraceptive pill? I don’t even want to think about-

“Give it papa bear.” Maddy stretches a hand down over my shoulder. “What the fuckery does the mega-bitch want now.”

“Maddy.” I admonish as sternly as you can after ogling your daughter’s shaved pussy for the last hour.

“Fucking bitch. I’ll wash up Laur’s. Thanks for dins.”

“Aww… What a cow. I can’t believe she texted Dad about your pill.” Laura groans. “Soz pops.”

“Ah well, you’re big girls these days I guess.” I yawn and look up at an ungainly tangle of shower fresh limbs clambering off the couch.

Maddy takes Laura’s plate then moves over to take mine. For a brief moment as I look up to pass her the plate, I can see completely up inside her t-shirt while she stands over me. Her little pussy is pouty and plump and glistens. And, I confirm, completely shaved.

“Oh.” Shit, focus you old perve. “Sorry, here.”

I pass my plate and wrench my eyes down off her proud teenage breasts. My god, pert barely describes the shape and perkiness. Shit, stop staring.

“Thanks love. Dinner was awesome.” I wrench my eyes away and smile at Laura as if nothing… as if… as if I wasn’t… as if my boxers weren’t starting to awkwardly tent and my arm across my crotch was just there for comfort.

The girls share a strange look and smile at each other.

“Say hi to Mum. I’ve got study Dad.” Laura tells me.

“Tell the mega-beast I had to walk.” Maddy grumps. “I’m…” She shrugs, “Washing up then going to take ‘MY PILL’ like a good girl who isn’t going to get preggers and embarrass her mother and then I’m goi-“

“Bing!”

“It’s Deb.” [I’ll drop the screwdriver bits back on the weekend. You’re a doll.] Maddy reads from my phone.

The kaçak bahis girls share another weird look then at me.

“Oh, yeah… She borrowed them the other day. Carl needed it for something.” I tell them.

“Clueless.” Laura shakes her head and walks away.

“Fucking clueless.” Maddy agrees with a kind of sad look before leaving for the kitchen.

The house is quiet when I hear Mary pull in. I’ve been sitting on the couch watching some documentary and absently fondling my half hard dick. I have tomorrow off and I’m looking forward to sleeping in, mowing the lawn and meeting Carl for nine at the City Golf Club in the afternoon.

I rise and make my way to the door to open it for her.

“Hey.” I smile and try to hug her welcome. She dodges me. Sort of shrugs me off and avoids my eyes.

“Need a shower. Is dinner in the oven?”

“Yeah…” I squint. “How did the costumes-“

“Oh fine. All done.” She half giggles. “The kids will look really cute.”

Then she’s gone. She’s hurried through the house, dropped her handbag on the hall stand, her keys on the key rack and closed the bathroom door behind her. I’m still standing in the lounge looking off toward the bathroom when Maddy bumps my shoulder with hers.

“Goodnight Daddy. Love ya.” She kisses my cheek. “Tuck me in?”

“You’re too old for that.” I laugh. When she was little, I had to tuck her blankets around her and read her a book every night.

I catch her looking off to the bathroom direction and frowning.

“I love you, Daddy.” She says sadly before leaving.

I’m watching that same documentary when Mary joins me on the couch after she’s sat alone at the table and eaten her reheated and if I may further iterate, ‘exquisite’ butter chicken. She smells fresh. Her hair is wet and wrapped in a tall towel on her head. Her ‘grandma’ robe is belted tightly around her and that is always a wonderful portent for nudity underneath and Friday night fun.

There is a gap between us that I try to close by putting an arm around her and pulling her in. She frowns and looks confused for a moment.

“I’m… Look, just not tonight. I know it’s Friday but… I’m exhausted.”

“From sewing?” I laugh. Not meanly. Just wondering why a couple of hours sewing after her usual Friday short shift could leave her tired?

“I’m not a fucking ‘sex vending machine’, Lucas. You can’t just assume that because it’s Friday fucking night that you’re going to get your dick sucked and fuck me. I need a little… I’m fucking tired okay.”

She must be. She’s even crying a bit. Jesus. How the fuck did I even light the fuse on that moment?

“I’m going to bed.” She says with finality. It’s only fucking eight o’clock for fucks sake. Jesus, that was some imbalanced fucking shit.

……….

“You poor clueless bastard.” I hear and smile as my little Maddy gently covers me with a blanket. “You can squeeze in my bed if you don’t want to stay here.”

Looking around I realise I’ve fallen asleep on the couch. “Love ya Maddy.”

“You too, Daddy.” She pats my cheek and tucks the blanket around me.

………..

“Bing!”

[Gonna have to ditch on golf, cobber. Called in.]

“Fuck.” I grumble into the echoing garage.

“Who was that?” Laura asks. She loves tinkering. She’s kind of the boy we never had.

“Carl. Got called in this arvo. I was looking forward to a bit of a walk and trying to find my balls.”

The silence hung a little heavily after that and I turned to see Laura half smirking, half frowning with one eyebrow up.

“Oh… haha. Find my balls.” I roll my eyes. “Very funny.”

“Hmmph. Maybe you should.” She grumbles almost silently.

“What are you on about kiddo?”

“Nothing. Can we just… This. Your bike. Us time.” She is in a mood. Since she was tiny, she always loved hanging out in the garage with me. I used to call her my little grease monkey, much to Mary’s disgust.

“Sure. You want to get ice-cream later?”

That gets me a smile. Her favourite weekend thing is a bike ride up to Picnic Point. The long way. The long way includes going out West Street and down through the twisty bit to Hodgson Vale then a stop at the park to throw bread to ducks and back up to the lookout for ice-cream. She’s even made boys take her to those places on dates over the years.

“Yyyyuss!” She pumps her fist and grins in triumph.

“You sure you can fit your old man in? What about Steve?”

There’s a naughty smile on her face. She must be thinking about Steven, her boyfriend of the last six months.

“I’ll always make time to ‘fit you in’ Dad.” She makes finger apostrophes, “Steve is getting… Well true? For real, he’s getting kind of lazy and… I feel a bit… hmmm… I don’t know. Just. I just want to… Ice-cream. Fuck Steven. He can… hang with his mates like always.”

“Oh jeez… Cracks in the pavement, kiddo?”

“Yawning abysses, Dad.” She rubs her forehead. “We… work alright. You know, in the bedroom and all, but now the attraction has kind of faded illegal bahis and the reality set in, we are really very different people who want really different things and this afternoon… Well, this afternoon, Steve can go rub his mates’ dicks and I want my Dad.”

“Wow. Poor Steve.” I actually like the guy. Which is weird as well, because I get stupidly, jealously, over the top protective of my girls.

We fall into that quiet cadence of passing tools and muttering that dad’s and sons are stereotypically more prone to and pass the rest of the hour changing oil, tightening the chain and giving the old girl a general tidy up.

Laura seemed particularly pensive, and I felt like I wanted to ask what was bothering her but needed to respect her privacy. She’s an adult now and deserving of that autonomy. Both my girls are so more mature with their emotions and choices than I ever was. Hell, probably more than I still am.

“Oh fucking fuck!” Mary is standing in the doorway with her phone to her ear. “You’re fucking joking, that little bitch. Why… Sick! Bullshit… Well can’t you call Deb? Carl’s golfing this afternoon and they need the money. That new girl Joyce?”

Mary sighs while she listens to her phone and gives me a resigned roll of her eyes and shake of her head. “What fucking time, Garry?”

Garry is her and Deb’s boss at the service station they work at.

“Fine! Fucking fine.” She sounds so defeated. “Okay.”

She hangs up and slumps. “I’m sorry. Especially after…”

She doesn’t have to say, ‘last night’. It’s obvious.

“It’s alright. I have a date.” I wink at Mary and hug an arm around Laura’s shoulder. “We’re going for ice-cream.”

Mary watches me for a long moment with a look that I can’t decipher, then smiles briefly and nods. Then she’s gone. If anyone tries to tell you they understand women, they’re a fucking liar.

So, Mary went to work. Carl went to work. I didn’t go to golf. I went for a long afternoon ride in the glorious sunshine with a girl I love more than life itself. Rusty rolled along just beautifully and thundered us through the hills. Laura giggled on the back like she always did when I got a little frisky with the corners or the throttle. And we had ice-cream.

Life was fucking peachy.

I was the fucking luckiest man alive.

And then.

The doorbell rang.

“Ding Dong!”

“Oh hey Deb, I’ll get Dad.” Maddy said.

“Hi spunky.” I greeted the little ginger bombshell with a kiss on the cheek and a friendly hug. “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh…” She looked really frazzled. She is usually just such an insanely well put together individual that it was profoundly contrasting. “Nothing. Just Carl wanted me to drop these back for him. I’ve got a thousand things to do. And God, whinge much?”

I took the screwdriver bits from her tiny hands and looked at them.

Really hard.

“So…” Something was struggling through my really relaxed after Saturday bike ride mind. “Why didn’t you give these to Mary last night?”

I mean, she was over there helping her sew for hours. Didn’t that make sense?

“Oh yeah, Carl said… She’s such a good friend. I’d be lost without her. God… Halloween, huh? Not even a fucking thing when I grew up, but now…”

Laura looked sideways at me with a question perched high on her eyebrows and a deliberate set to her stance like she was waiting for something.

“Well thanks, Deb. Was a bit pissed about missing golf.”

“Yeah, fucking roster clerks who couldn’t organise a root in a brothel.”

“Tell me about it. Mary got called in too.”

“Huh?” Deb watched me strangely for a moment until I felt the need to explain.

“Oh, someone called in sick or something.”

“Oh.” She frowned and looked away. “Ah… Anyway. I should…” She looked back at her car full of kids and nodded.

“Thanks love.” I hugged her again. Did I mention she’s a fucking stunner? Any excuse for contact, right?

As I watched her drive away the screwdriver bits got really heavy. Her last words were, “Tell Mary thanks. I had a late shift last night and if she hadn’t dropped those costumes off, I’d have been the worst mum in Gabbinbar.”

Beside me Laura nodded and said very quietly; very carefully, “Not so clueless after all.”

Then she wiped tears from her eyes and held me very tightly as my world crumbled.

Some ages later the grief had washed through me thoroughly and left in its place a taint of self-loathing. Laura had left me to my own indignity after fetching me a six pack and pestering a promise I wouldn’t do anything stupid out of me. Now, I just felt like such a goddamned fool. The pieces all sort of started fitting together.

Strange coincidences that I’d chastised myself for imagining something more of, aligned with other things and all of the little doubts and suspicions matched up. Whenever I’d asked for clarity… I’m a trusting man but it helps sometimes to ask a question just to put your mind at ease. Whenever I’d asked a question, I had immediately regretted it. Berated for not trusting her. Told I was sick for even imagining she had time or interest in anything outside our marriage. At least her lack of interest in the bedroom made sense. It wasn’t me after all.

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